


Whiteout

by reliquiaen



Category: Adventure Time, Bubbline - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 09:02:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3404930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reliquiaen/pseuds/reliquiaen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Her breath billowed above her, smoke from a dragon's maw, whispering away into the darkness." - AU. When it's cold and dark outside, when you're stuck inside with nothing but reading material for company... I guess there's worse things than being snowed in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whiteout

It was cold. A sensation she was unfamiliar with. She stood at the window wrapped in woollens that she’d bought a few days ago at the insistence of her landlady. Sure enough, yesterday the temperature had plummeted and she was currently regretting not buying that third scarf.

No snow yet though. She’d never seen snow before; not in person anyway. She looked over her shoulder, wondering where her girlfriend had gone. At this time of the evening, being outside was hazardous and Bonnie was worried.

The window misted up, frost creeping across the bottom of the sill. She pondered for a moment the possibility that the glass would crack. Although the landlady had assured them the glass had been treated with such weather in mind, Bonnie’s mind wasn’t put at ease.

Behind her, the fire snapped and she jumped at the sound. The goddamn thing was so unpredictable, she had been here for three months now and its incessant crackling was still unusual to her mind. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to it.

Bonnie placed her palm against the glass, finding the sensation of the biting cold on one side and the seeping warmth from the fire rather odd. A smoky hand print was left there when she pulled away. Sighing, she snagged her book off the kitchen table and slumped into a sofa, feet tucked up beneath her to keep her toes warm.

She lost herself in the words of her novel, pressing her concerns to the fringes of her mind, the niggling doubts that something had happened banished. So absorbed she became that the clanking in her lock didn’t register. Nor did the scraping of the door across the carpet or the soft squeak of protest it still gave.

Bonnie did, however, scream when Marceline clapped hands down on her shoulders and shouted, “Boo!” She clutched her cardigan closer and twisted to glare at her smirking friend. Her heart beating much faster than normal.

“Marceline!” she scolded at least an octave higher than usual. “You scared me.”

Marceline waved a hand at her. “I can see that. Scoot over.” With that, she squeezed herself down on the (single seat) sofa and plucked the book from Bonnie’s still quivering fingers. She draped the book over the back of the chair and pulled Bonnie into her lap. “Miss me?”

Bonnie huffed. “I probably would have more if you hadn’t just taken ten years off my life expectancy,” she grumbled, retrieving her novel. “What kept you?”

“Frost on the roads, babe,” Marceline replied, fingers fiddling with a stray end of wool at the hem of Bonnie’s cardigan. “Had to drive slowly. The weather report on the radio said they’re expecting a severe blizzard in the morning. Police and rescue services are enforcing a travel ban starting tomorrow. So I stopped to get a few more things.”

Bonnie ran one hand through Marceline’s wet hair. It hadn’t started snowing yet, but rime still clung to her dark locks, dampening the collar of her coat. Bonnie sighed again, resting her head against Marceline’s shoulder.

“I guess we’re stuck here then,” she muttered.

“Looks that way.” Marceline twisted, hand groping behind her for where her laptop was sitting on the table. She slid it onto her lap and pulled up the forecast. The whole region was covered in a grey haze, a colour version next to it showing how severe it would be for different areas. “How terrible,” Marceline mumbled. “I’ll have to spend all day with you.”

“However will you cope?” Bonnie asked dryly, burying her nose back into her book as Marceline clicked away on her computer. She held the tome with one hand; the other was occupied toying with Marceline’s hair, tracing the outline of a musical note tattooed on the back of her neck. Of course, she needed it to turn pages, and that was a shame.

“Are you going to be alright, do you think?” Marceline asked softly a while later.

“I’ll be fine, I’m sure,” Bonnie assured her. “Just because I’ve never lived through a blizzard, or any sort of snowfall for that matter, it doesn’t mean I’m going to leave, you know. I knew there would be a climate adjustment when I moved in with you.”

Marceline smiled, the firelight reflecting off her teeth. “Sure the snow and cold isn’t going to scare you off? I know what it’s like down there where ya’ll southern folk live. With the sun shining all the time.”  
Bonnie leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “I’ll be fine. Just so long as you don’t disappear in the middle of the night.”

At that, Marceline chuckled. “Winter is good for cuddle time then, eh?”

“Sounds about right.”

For the longest time, they sat there; Bonnie reading and Marceline tapping away on her laptop. Occasionally she’d check the weather site again, but mostly they were happy with the silence. And naturally, with the feel of Marceline beside her and the rhythmic typing, Bonnie found herself drifting off to sleep. Apparently the cold made her drowsy.

\--

She woke, probably hours later, a blanket thrown over her, novel sitting – closed – on the table. Marceline was still beside her, asleep now though, the blanket draping across her too. Bonnie lifted her head and looked around; the fire had died down, the embers providing only a soft red light as they slumbered.

Marceline stirred, the arm she’d wrapped around Bonnie’s middle tightening as if needing to reassure herself that Bonnie was still there. She just sat there, watching her girlfriend sleep in the dying light from the fireplace. Reaching up, Bonnie swept a curl of black hair from Marceline’s face and smiled. 

At first, the idea of moving from southern Texas to Pennsylvania to live with Marceline had been daunting. It was a different climate than she was used to. But this – this moment right here made it all worth it.  
Marceline’s brown eyes opened, watching her through the gloom. That slow impish smile she saved just for Bonnie crept across her face and she constricted her hold. Then she blinked, frowned, stared out the window. Bonnie had only enough time to decide she didn’t like it when Marceline frowned before her girlfriend was standing, dashing to the window.

When she turned the grin on her face was blinding. “Get some boots on, Bonnie,” she said, drawing the blanket tighter around Bonnie’s shoulders. “Quick.”

At Marceline’s fervid insistence, she slipped on a coat, wrapped a scarf haphazardly around her neck and pulled her boots on. “What are we doing, Marceline?” Bonnie asked into the quiet dark.

“Shh,” was the only reply. Then Marceline grabbed her wrist and tugged her towards the front door. “Just trust me.”

Marceline, too, was now wearing a big fluffy coat, scarf stuffed down the front. She smiled, opening the door, letting in a gust of frigid air, snatching the lingering warmth from the room. Bonnie shivered, frowning, but Marceline just pulled her close and stepped out into the night.

Above them, the sky was grey and black, almost no moonlight filtered through the thick clouds. It was still, a tang to the breeze that whisked past them, running ghostly fingers through the fuzz of their coats, their hats. Mostly, the night was static, waiting, holding its breath for something.

Bonnie’s exhalations puffed misty in the cold. It didn’t scythe through her multiple layers of winter clothing as she’d expected. It simply settled around her shoulders, a calm cold, there, all around them, but not moving, it too was waiting. Bonnie wasn’t sure what for, although Marceline was bouncing on her toes, staring up at the sky, anticipation etched across the angle of her shoulders, in the tilt of her head, the way her fingers danced across Bonnie’s hip. Her breath billowed above her, smoke from a dragon’s maw, whispering away into the darkness.  
“Marceline…” Bonnie murmured, wary of shattering the crystalline quiet.

Her girlfriend looked down at her then, smiling, resting her chin on Bonnie’s shoulder. “Just wait,” she murmured in Bonnie’s ear. It tickled on her icy skin and she sank into Marceline’s side, glad for her closeness and the warmth.

“For what?”

“In a minute.” Marceline’s arms wound around her middle and she stopped bouncing. She pressed her nose into Bonnie’s collar. “Just give it a moment.”

Bonnie shivered again, tucking her hands into the pockets of Marceline’s coat. And then it was there. She felt Marceline smile against her and they both looked up. The tang in the air swirled around them as the fluffy balls of snow trickled down around them.

“The first snowfall,” Marceline muttered, expelling another cloud of dragon smoke.

Lightly at first, the puffs drifted towards them, little white spots against the endless black above them. Marceline lifted her hand, allowing the snow to alight on her palm, melting as soon as it touched down. Feather light, they adorned her dark hair as Bonnie turned to look up at her. Like stars, endless stars, wreathing Marceline’s head.

“It’s beautiful,” Bonnie said in that same hushed tone.

Marceline’s crooked smile canted across her face. “You’re not even looking at the snow, Bonnie,” she teased.

Bonnie reached up to wipe a stray flake off Marceline’s pale cheek. “It’s all beautiful.”

“So you like your first encounter with snow?”

“It’s gorgeous and I love it,” Bonnie assured her. “Just like I love you… Only not quite as much.”

Marceline’s burst of laughter rang in the night and she pressed her lips to Bonnie’s just briefly. “I love you too, nerd attack,” she murmured against Bonnie’s mouth. Then she slid away, not far, but far enough that Bonnie’s hands couldn’t quite get a good enough hold on her lapels. 

She grumbled a protest at the sudden distance. This was in part because she liked it when Marceline was close, but mostly because of the sudden draft of cold cutting between them.

Heat surged through her though, evicting all thoughts of the cold, when she realised what Marceline was doing. Bonnie clapped her hands over her mouth in shock. But she couldn’t hide the smile that seized control of her face.

“Bonnie,” Marceline said, looking up at her from where she knelt in the snow. “I ran through at least a million ways of doing this, but I couldn’t come up with something sufficiently awesome to do you justice. I think this is pretty memorable though. So, I want you to know how much you mean to me, alright? Five years is a long time and it took me maybe one of them to realise that I want to do absolutely everything with you by my side. All of it. I want to hold your hand for the rest of my life, I want to watch you get that adorable little frown when you think and hold doors for you. I want to go to sleep with you right there and see your beautiful face first thing when I wake. It’s cheesy and I watched an awful lot of romance movies to figure out how to do this right. I decided they’re all stupid. Bonnie, will you marry me?”

She collapsed into the snow, ignoring the cold damp seeping through the knees of her pants, and wrapped her arms around Marceline’s neck. She didn’t even look at the little black box with its shiny silver band; she just buried her face in Marceline’s hair, snow tickling her nose.

“I’ve never heard you speak that many sappy words before, Marcy,” she laughed into the fluff of her coat.

“I doubt it’ll happen again,” Marceline replied. “Can I have an answer, please? I’m getting a little anxious here.” Her voice was outwardly confident and joking, but there was a waver there, something so small that nobody would ever hear it. But Bonnie did, and it was fear.

“Of course I’ll marry you,” Bonnie replied, still not able to contain her laughter. “I don’t know why you’d think otherwise.” There was wetness on Marceline’s coat then and it took her a moment to realise that she was crying.

Marceline’s arms wrapped around her and squeezed. She was laughing too, Bonnie realised. And they were both going to be soaked from the snow piling up around them. They stood when the cold became too hard to ignore and Bonnie pulled her back inside, hoping some of the warm from the fire still clung to the room. Pausing once the door was closed behind them, Marceline slid the ring on Bonnie’s finger with shaking hands, still grinning like an idiot.

“How long have you had that?” Bonnie asked, resting her forehead on Marceline’s shoulder.

“Since you visited me in summer two years ago,” Marceline replied. Her fingers wound into Bonnie’s coat hem, holding her close.

Bonnie chuckled, leaning up to kiss her. She ignored Marceline’s attempts to deepen it though; instead she pulled away, plucking at her coat. “Come with me,” she whispered. It didn’t take her much convincing to follow up the stairs to the bedroom.

She let Marceline go and rummaged around in her bag. It was the only place Marceline wouldn’t snoop. Coming up with a little silver box, she held it out for Marceline to take.

“Oh God,” Marceline wheezed, wiggling the ring from the cushion. “When did you get this?”

“A year ago, when we first started talking about living together,” Bonnie said. She took the band from Marceline to slip it onto her finger. 

This time, there was no warning before Marceline kissed her again, harder this time, but slow. Bonnie sighed, weaving her hands into Marceline’s hair, feeling the damp of the snow on her fingers. And this time, she didn’t mind when Marceline’s tongue darted out questioningly. She didn’t resist being pulled back onto the bed either. 

And the cold disappeared.

\--

They lost power that night, mobile reception was cut to the merest of buzzes. Marceline laughed when she realised that they were snowed under the next morning. White pooled at the door and wind howled past the window. Bonnie pressed her nose to the glass but couldn’t see more than a metre away from the house, the flurry was so thick.

No power, no leaving the house for fear of frostbite, no nothing.

They spent the day in bed.

Whiteouts are Bonnie’s new favourite thing.

**Author's Note:**

> PS. I know nothing about America or snow.


End file.
